


Neverland

by Believe_in_the_Journey (orphan_account)



Series: Disney Fanfiction [1]
Category: Disney - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Peter is mildly depressed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-25 03:32:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3795058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Believe_in_the_Journey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gemma Jones is a lonely girl who lives with her little brother, Andrew, in their father's manor. Her father travels the seas as a merchant. When Peter Pan's shadow leads him to her window, she is swept off to an amazing island where she will never grow up. However, she does not feel like she belongs, no matter how the Lost Boys welcome her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Neverland

Peter’s POV  
Peter flew back to Neverland with tears in his eyes. He could not believe Wendy had grown up. When he landed in Neverland, his Lost Boys gathered around him. “Where’s Wendy?” they inquired. This group had never met Wendy, and never would. When the girl had left, she’d taken his old group of Lost Boys with her. They wanted families, they wanted to grow up. Peter had gotten this new group, but he could not get the girl off his mind, so he’d gone in search of her. By then, it was too late, she had her own children, her own family. 

“She grew up.” Peter replied, looking into their horrified faces. These boys, at least, were disgusted at the prospect of growing up. They tried to comfort him, but it was pointless. He flew away to his tree house. He remembered only twice feeling this way. Once, when Wendy left the first time. Second, when Tink nearly died by drinking poison to save his life. 

As if summoned by that thought, the blonde fairy landed on his pillow. She said something, but all Peter could hear was the faint ringing of a bell, like always. Somehow, this time, he understood that she was telling him that she was still there for him, just like old times. He dried his eyes, and smiled sadly. “Thanks, Tink.”

 

 

Gemma’s POV  
I sat on the window seat, reading. The night was so bright, I didn’t need any other light than that of the moon and stars. I looked up from my book and into the night sky. I wanted more than anything else to go on some wild adventure out there, fight pirates or slay a dragon, if only that were possible. I opened my window and let the breeze hit me. Then I stood and went to bed.

 

Peter’s POV  
Just as Peter was about to fall asleep, his shadow tapped his shoulder. It moved, came closer, and moved backwards, urging him to follow. The boy groaned, but got out of bed and followed it far beyond Neverland and London, and into Britain. The dark figure landed on a windowsill and ushered him inside. The window was open despite the light rain, and that made the boy curious. He flew into the dark room and the first thing he noticed was the silhouette of a bed. Behind him, on the window seat, was a book. In fact, along that entire wall, was a bookshelf built into it. Hundreds of books filled the shelves, making him once again long to know how to read. 

As he walked deeper into the room, he tripped over a small doll. At the thud of him hitting the floor, a girl jolted up in bed. She searched the room wildly for the thing that scared her awake. “Hello?” She called out shakily. He stiffened, glaring at his shadow, but she spotted him anyway. “Who are you and what are you doing in my room?” she said coldly. 

He stood, barely able to see her. “I’m Peter Pan. My shadow led me here. Who are you?”

“Gemma Jones.” She replied. She also stood and walked over to him, cautiously. “How’d you get up here? This is the third floor.”

“I flew.”

The girl burst out laughing, and with that movement, he was able to see her better. She had long curly black hair, a pale face, and brown eyes. Very pretty, just like her laugh. He liked her laugh, but he was not so pleased with the fact she was laughing at him. She must have seen his expression, because she stopped laughing. “You’re serious?”

He nodded and told his shadow to bring Tink here.

Gemma’s POV  
When I’d realized there was a boy in my room, I’d panicked and tugged on the rope above my bed. It rang a bell in my father’s room, telling him he was needed. However, he must have been down in the kitchens because no one came. For which I was actually glad. Peter Pan intrigued me. 

I’d heard stories of a flying boy who came from a far-off land that flew through open windows to visit boys and girls from Daddy, but I’d never believed him, though he swore up and down they were true. Peter stared at me, as if he recognized my face. “You remind me of someone…” He murmured. 

Before I could reply, a small, but bright, ball of greenish light flew into my room. It landed in Peter’s open hand, and the light dimmed, revealing a small winged girl with her blonde hair pulled back in a bun, and wearing a green dress made from a leaf. She waved at me, and Peter smiled. “This is Tinkerbell. She can help you fly…. if you want.” 

I hesitated. Of course, I wanted to fly, but I would need proof that it was possible before I made a fool of myself, “I want to watch you fly first, Pan.” Peter grinned and leaped into the air. He flew a loop-da-loop before landing back on my carpet, “Yes, please.” I exclaimed, “I’d love to fly.”

Tinker Bell flew from his hand and circled my head, sprinkling a sparkly green powder on me. “Think happy thoughts, Gemma.” Peter said. I closed my eyes and thought of my mum. She’d died three years ago, when she was giving birth to my little brother, Andrew. She had been beautiful, with her long, wavy, light brown hair and bright green eyes. She and I used to play games or read together when Daddy was off selling merchandise to customers across the seas. When I opened my eyes, my feet were off the ground and I was suspended in midair. I tilted forward some, and suddenly was crashing into my wall. I threw my hands in front of my face to keep from face-planting it. Peter laughed and joined me in the air. “Take my hand, Gemma. I’ll help you.”

I looked at the hand and slowly took it. “Where are you taking me?” 

“Neverland, if you want to?” he said it, in almost a question-like fashion. 

I thought about it. Admittedly, I was scared. But then I looked into his eyes. Behind the the glimmer of mischief was an emotion I recognized well. Pain. He’d been hurt, and that vulnerability that I empathized with made me trust him. I nodded, “I’d like that.” He grinned widely and we flew out my window, Tinkerbell taking the lead. We flew through the light rain and I enjoyed the glittering stars and the sparkle of the falling water. “It’s gorgeous.” I whispered.

* * *  
After some time, we arrived at a beach surrounded by ocean and trees. It was lovely in a mysterious, adventurous way. I marveled at the scenery as Tinkerbell and Peter slowly disappeared into the trees. I chased after them and they led me into a clearing. “Look up.” Peter whispered in my ear, I looked up into the trees and saw a series of roughly made tree houses. Peter made an odd cawing sound and little boys, ranging from ages six to seventeen, peeked bleary-eyed from the windows and then leaped down to us. “Peter” They cheered. 

One of the boys, eleven or twelve, with dark brown hair and brown eyes, turned to me. “Who is ya?”he asked with a thick country twang. 

I cringed at the grammatical error, but responded without correction. “I am Gemma. And who are you?”

“Nice to meet ya, Janny, I’m Henry.” he said politely.

“Gem-ma.” I corrected slowly, but he’d already turned back to Peter who was talking about meeting me. He embellished on the details, making me out to be much more frightened than I really had been, and in his version, he’d been a lot less shy. I just rolled my eyes, a smirk on my face. I did not really care if these little boys looked at me as a scared little girl, because what was really important was that they saw Peter as a leader. I could see his bravery and courage now that he was with his followers. He did not even have to say it, I could tell he was the leader, just by the way the boys looked at him with mixed expressions of reverence and awe. Even I was starting to feel a little respect. I shook my head as I watched. The boys were no longer sleepy as they looked at me with bright smiles. 

“Be nice.” Peter said warningly, as he watched, waiting to see how they would accept me. I suddenly felt self-conscious under their gazes. But there was no need, they just smiled and said almost unanimously, “Welcome, Gemma.” 

I remembered almost suddenly that they must be orphans. All these little boys looking rough, and clearly living here permanently. How sad. No wonder they looked up to Peter so. He was like a parent to them, except this was like a special club. All you had to do was believe. Peter moved through the boys and joined my side. “These are my Lost Boys” he informed me.

I looked at all of them. A fitting name for this group of rag-tag orphans. ‘Maybe I could be the first Lost Girl.’ I thought, but then shook that from my head. No, my dad needed me. I was all he had. If I disappeared, he’d never return to civilization. He’d shut himself away in his ship and never make contact with humans. I was the only reminder he had left that he had to come home sometimes. Peter dismissed his Boys to return to their tree houses, and led me around the clearing, describing each area’s purpose and how things were ran here in this foreign place. 

“One last thing, while you are here, except for fairies, anyone else you meet here is not safe. Especially pirates. If you see one, hide in the trees. At least until you’ve been taught how to duel properly.” Peter said.

I burst out laughing for the second time that night. Oh, the stereotype that girls don’t know how to defend themselves. “Pan, please. I know how to use a sword. I’ve been fighting with one since I could walk.” When my dad was home from the seas, he and I would spend one-on-one time dueling. It was great fun, actually.

Peter looked impressed. “Alright then, Jones. Show me what you can do.” He offered me a long blade he had pulled from a bush, drawing his own from beneath a tree stump roots. I took the blade and assumed an offensive stance. Before he could get his own blade in the proper position, mine was thrusting forward to touch his ribs. He parried before it got there and we spent a good five minutes at least dueling before his sword got behind mine, pulling it from my hands. His blade pressed against my neck. “Well, you’re pretty good.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. For a girl, right?”

He shook his head. “For anyone. I’m not that sexist, Gemma. So where’d you learn to fight like that? I have only seen moves like yours from, well, pirates.” He dropped his sword to his side, allowing me to relax and move away from the tree I’d been backed against. 

“My dad taught me. Whenever he was home, we’d duel for hours. When I was little, he’d let me win, but when I was eight, we dueled for real.” I showed him the long white scar on my side. “This happened when I was fourteen. We haven’t dueled since. Guess it scared him too much.”

Peter looked a little sad, but hid his emotions with a smile. But I saw right through it. It was the same expression I adopted whenever my dad looked at me that first year when mom died. “Do you have any siblings?” He asked changing the topic.  
I nodded. “One, my little brother, Andrew.”

“We can bring him here tomorrow morning if you like.” 

I nodded again. “He’d like that. But forewarning, he’s three years old and a bit rambunctious.” 

Peter’s eyebrows scrunched together. “What does ram…. ram.. whatever it is, mean?”

I smiled, “Rambunctious? Ornery, wild, energetic.”

Peter looked less confused, but perplexed none the less. But he still smiled and said, “Well, we’re all a bit rambunctious here. He’ll fit right in.”

For some reason that scared me. A chill ran through me, at the thought of my little brother becoming a Lost Boy. That was all wrong. I was not sure why, but something about the way it felt to think of either of us being a part of Peter Pan’s Lost group felt so wrong. I dismissed the thought as worry about my father. Peter led me to an abandoned tree house. The inside looked much different than I’d imagined. A bed with white sheets and a yellow curtain were the only things inside, but it still managed to have the feeling of warmth. A girl had clearly lived here at one time, and she wanted privacy too, hence the curtain.

Peter smiled at me, then left before I could ask about the other girl. I resolved to inquire about her tomorrow. I snuggled underneath the covers and let my worn-out body finally get some sleep.

***  
The next morning, I awoke to the bright sunlight peeking through the thin curtain and the aroma of baking pastries. At first, I was confused about where I was, it was definitely not my own room, but then I remembered. I rolled out of bed, and suddenly a mirror image appeared in front of my face. Neverland magic. I looked at the image of myself. Goodness, my hair was a disaster. The black spirals were locked in rat nests and tangles that were unbelievably frizzy. I suddenly did not feel anxious to go eat. What was I going to…. When I looked back at the bed, a pine cone brush lay on the sheets. More magic. I picked up the brush and ran it through the tangles with difficulty. Once it was loose and smoothed down, I proceeded to climb down a ladder made from vines. I was instantly swarmed by small boys. 

Peter called them back to a long wooden table filled with food. I followed them, sitting next to Peter and Henry. “How’d you sleep?” Peter asked.

I grinned, taking a cinnamon roll from a wooden plate in near me. “Very well, thank you. And you?”

“Good. Thanks.” 

The polite conversation felt weird. Awkward. I shifted uncomfortably as I ate my breakfast. An hour or so later, (it was hard to tell here in Neverland, time seemed slow but also remarkably fast) Peter summoned Tink and told her we would be returning to my house. The fairy nodded, sprinkling more green powder on me. This time I thought of how wonderful my brother was and how lucky I was to have him. We flew back to Britain, returning to my bedroom. Everything looked exactly the same. They hadn’t even noticed I was missing yet. “Stay here.” I said. Peter nodded, and I left the room, walking down the hall to Andrew’s room. The boy sat on the floor, playing with a wooden dog Daddy had made for me when I was little. “Andy, I want you to meet someone. Follow me, okay?”

The boy stood and followed me back to my room. He looked curiously at Peter then back at me. “Andrew, this is Peter Pan, from Daddy’s stories, remember?” The boy grinned, and I knew he did. “He’s going to take us to Neverland, would you like that?”

“Yes, Gem.” He said, his eyes glowing. Tink sprinkled the green dust on him and Peter took our hands, flying us back to Neverland. The boys greeted Andy like he was a regular Lost Boy. I soon lost track of my little brother, and ended up play-fighting with Peter again. 

“Pan, was there ever any girls here before me?” I asked as I thrusted.

He nodded, a pained look in his eyes for a moment. “Yes. Her name was Wendy. All you need to know about her is that these are not my original Lost Boys.”

I frowned, parrying his move. “What’s the point of the Lost Boys anyway? Why are they here?”

Peter smiled. “Simple, they don’t want to grow up, like me.”

I froze. “Grow up? As in, you never age here?”

Peter knocked the sword from my hand once again. “Yes, Jones. Haven’t you noticed the oddness of time here? That’s the truest magic of Neverland. There is no time. I have been here for several years. I can’t tell you how long, but it feels like forever, at the same time it feels like just a second.”

I realized he was several years older than he appeared, all of the boys were. No wonder there was no adults here. I really looked at Peter for the first time. He had reddish-blonde hair, blue eyes that held not only mischievousness, but also history, and a good deal of freckles. He was attractive, in an impish way. When he smiled, it was lopsided, and made it look like a smirk more than a genuine smile. “What are you thinking about, Jones?”

“How wonderful this place is.” I answered, halfway honestly. That was the first time I saw a genuine smile on his face. 

Suddenly I realized he had slowly been moving closer to me. He was close enough for me to smell the scent of pine and fresh cut wood on his clothes. His uncomfortable closeness brought heat into my face, turning my cheeks a bright red. “You’re blushing, Jones.” he said softly, his breath fanning across my face, smelling faintly of mint and cinnamon. I could feel my blush darken, but it was like someone had glued my feet to the grass, I could not move. 

I shook my head, trying to find my way out of this situation. Yes, I liked him, but… I just could not do it. I could not be so attracted to him with my head screaming he was wrong. I could not want to kiss him with the nausea in my stomach telling me the whole situation was off. I did not belong in the forests of this island. And the second I heard the lookout screaming that Captain Hook and his men were coming, my thoughts lurched as it struck me where I belonged. I belonged at sea with my father. I belonged with the man standing in the trees looking shocked at his daughter, who was incredulously close to his rival.

 

Peter’s POV  
He looked at Gemma’s face, which had gone from a dark red to a ghost-white in mere moments, only needing a quick glance to the left for the abrupt change. Peter looked over too, as one of the lookouts, Scott, called out, “Hook!”

The man with one hand and a hook substituting the other stood in the trees to our left with the rest of his men. Peter released Gemma with horror as the boy realized what he had missed. It’d been so obvious, the resemblance between her and Hook. They even had the same last name. Peter knew Hook was just Captain Jones’ nickname. How could he have been so gullible? So easily duped? Jones had sent his daughter in to screw with his head while the pirate gathered his forces to attack. But that did not explain Hook’s shocked face. He shook his head, realizing it was part of the game. Peter looked around for his sword, thinking he’d dropped it, then saw it in Gemma’s hands. 

Hook ran at him, fury blazing in his dark eyes, the older man’s sword in front of him. The silver glinted in the sun as he drew nearer to running the boy through. The smaller opponent leaped into the air, but tumbled back down after a moment. He did not have any happy thoughts left. The red-blonde boy scrambled in the dirt, fleeing from Hook. No one else moved but the pirate and Peter Pan. Everyone else stared at the two and Gemma with a stunned look, and they seemed practically petrified. Before Hook caught up with Pan, a strangled scream echoed through the clearing. The rivals froze in horror, it was a girl who had screamed in pain. A cold feeling slithered up Peter’s spine as he turned to see Gemma lying on the ground, blood pooling, staining her white shirt. A silver blade protruded from her stomach. Peter Pan’s blade.

He should not feel so empty to see her there, bleeding and near death. She’d screwed with his head, he could not still feel this way about her, but he did. He felt his heart fall to the ground and be trampled on as he watched Hook run to his daughter, cradling her in his arms. He felt his insides twist painfully as he listened to her choking and coughing weakly. 

Gemma’s POV  
I watched in horror as Peter backed away from me, and as my father turned into a deadly pirate, intent on slaughtering the boy. While I was distracted, I did not notice the pirate behind me until the sword was being wrenched from my hand. He was suddenly in front of me and before I could back away, he shoved the blade into my stomach. Being impaled is totally different from what I expected. I expected unbearable pain spreading through my body like lightning and as I fell to the ground, bleeding out, I would black out from pain and escape the death bit. That’s not what happened. 

It started with numbness that turned into a slight tingling sensation as the warm, wet blood flowered across my shirt. Then a fiery, burning feeling spread slowly like molasses through my nerves. I shrieked in pain, swaying on the spot, before crumpling into the nearest Lost Boy who dropped me in surprise. My vision was blurry, but I could see my father rush to my side and Peter standing behind him. The boy’s face was ghost-white and a numb, horrified look covered his face. Tears and redness filled my vision now and I could feel my consciousness slipping. I heard vague screaming sounds. And sobbing. Had someone else been stabbed? Did it really matter? I could see bright light in the corners of my vision… What if it was Peter?! That terrifying thought brought me back enough for me to feel the unbearable pain that coursed through me like acid. I wanted to scream, but could not figure out where my mouth was. My body was just one giant lump of endless pain.Then I saw Peter’s tear-streaked face and my father’s lowered head. “Peter?” I coughed.

He looked at me, then looked at the glowing light hovering above me, “She’s still alive, Tink… do something, Please!”

Tink flew closer to me, her bright light filling my vision….

 

I woke up hours later in my bed at home, and sat up quickly, thinking I dreamt it all, but then the pain in my stomach started and I knew I hadn’t. A red-blonde boy was asleep in the chair next to me, his head tilted at an odd angle, his jaw slack. I smiled, then reached over and shook him awake. “Morning, Peter Pan.”

He smiled bleary-eyed at me, then gently hugged me. “I’m so glad you’re okay, Gemma. Tink said…. well, you’re fine now. I’ll go tell your dad.. one minute….”

He stood to leave, but I grabbed his wrist. “Not yet. I think…. we got interrupted earlier.”

He blinked in confusion, but then I pulled him down wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him. How could I possibly have thought this was wrong? It felt so perfect, so natural. He kissed me back after a moment and I’d never felt so happy.


End file.
